


two spoonfuls of honey

by ghostvinyls (jebbyfish)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, SURPRISE I SUPPOSE, tfw u didnt wanna use archive warnings cuz it ruins the surprise but yanno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 05:14:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11479359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jebbyfish/pseuds/ghostvinyls
Summary: PLANGST WEEK DAY 6: Dreams/Nightmares“I hate math, honestly.” Pidge whispered to no one in particular, waiting for the controller to vibrate in her hands. “It’s just counting. Daily. Counting daily.”“Sounds subtracting.”“Was that you trying to think of a pun?”“You missed the checkpoint.”happy plangst week you filthy animalssmall thing!! as i try to get back into the swing of writing between other work x_x!!! i'm such a happy ending  kind of person so rly this was a pain to finish cuz i didn't want to haha..... hope you enjoy :3c





	two spoonfuls of honey

He liked his tea with two spoonfuls of honey.

That was what Pidge learned the first morning they spent together, brewing tea on the electric stove in his cramped apartment.

“How do you like yours?” She had asked carefully, and Lance gave her a grin as he stated his order, hands drawing the curtains to let in soft blue light into the room.

“It’s sweet! But not too sweet.” Lance said, as if she was going to ask him to defend his preferences. She liked her tea straight.

She hadn’t been much of a tea drinker before. Not before Voltron, but only after coming home as she googled home remedies to cure nights and nights of insomnia. Chamomile was a recommendation. She liked chamomile. And white teas. Rooibos if she was feeling particularly bored.

The kettle began to sing, and Pidge returned to filling cups with tea. One blue, one green. They bought the cups at Ross, laughing to themselves in the aisles as they did.

“Do you want waffles for breakfast?” Lance asked, and Pidge found herself nodding in a daze. Waffles weren’t in space. She missed them for years.

Chocolate chip. She liked chocolate chip.

 

Her memories were mostly hazy. Every day living with Lance reminded her of summer. Warm and touchy, ice cold lemonade and sunlight filtering through dirty blinds. They played a lot of video games after coming home from long days at their respective jobs. Lance did advertising. Pidge did accounting.

“How was work?” Lance asked, languid, thumb bumping over the joystick of his controller.

“I hate math, honestly.” Pidge whispered to no one in particular, waiting for the controller to vibrate in her hands. “It’s just counting. Daily. Counting daily.”

“Sounds subtracting.”

“Was that you trying to think of a pun?”

“You missed the checkpoint.”

A scoff. “You’re such a doofus.”

A laugh, boisterous and free. “You love this doofus.”

“Yeah. I--”

A vibration buzzed through her hands.

 

Hazy.

Vibrations.

Not from her hands.

 

Pidge woke up to her phone buzzing. She knew who it was almost instantly. There’s only one person who liked to call her before the sun woke up.

“How are you, Katie?”

It was acid to her ears. “Better.”

Hesitation on the other end. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to anyone today--”

Today? She pulled the phone from her face to scrutinize the date. Her stomach did somersaults.

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Pause. “Just wanted to make sure you were…”

“Here?”

“Here.”

“I’m here. Promise.”

“Scout’s honor?”

“Paladin’s honor.”

“Okay.” Another long pause. “You were sleeping, weren’t you. I’m sorry.”

“Too late for that. Can I go now, Shiro?”

“Yes. Yeah. Okay.” Pause, pause, pause. “I love you.” An afterthought. Like he thought she needed to hear that from him today.

“Love you. Bye.”

Her phone fell out of her hands as she recalled her dream.

Lance. Lance Lance Lance.

She felt the hot summer sun beating on her back all over again. Their first kiss, too, his lips landing on hers, frantic, nervous. It had been hot that day, on that planet. His lips were dry but her palms were wet and shaking and heartbeats had wracked her frame.

Her eyes squeezed shut.

Maybe she should go say hi. It’s been a while since she’s seen Lance. Been a while since they spoke. Not since going back to earth.

She had been so scared to see him, post-being suffocated in hugs and kisses from her mother.

She pinned her hair back, sliding into her sandals. It was a few bus stops until she got there. She could kill time by reading. Or thinking about her dream.

She wondered if that’s what it would’ve been like, if things had turned out differently. Sharing an apartment. Coming home to hot meals and hot kisses and blue light and tea with two spoonfuls of honey.

That last part almost made her laugh. He told her one time that he hated tea.

Perhaps, that was a side effect of growing older. Learning to love the things you once despised.

Her chest constricted as the bus got closer to her stop.

Did she despise Lance, after all this time? Did she love him?

She almost said it, right?

She almost said she did, with a dreamed up controller in her hand and a dreamed up boy at her side.

The grass was dewy and freshly watered when she stepped out. Pidge was forgetting what it was like to breathe as she sank into it, legs trembling.

Headstones made her feel sick.

She had a lot of nightmares about headstones, but there were different names. Names of people that were at home right now, getting ready for another day of physical therapy.

She never dreamt up Lance’s name on one.

The bottom of her pants were going to get wet and muddy and tinged green, but Pidge sat down on the ground anyway, eyes staring hard at the no-nonsense font Lance’s name was in.

He would’ve hated it. Probably would’ve made a joke about his name in some ugly font.

“Put ‘intergalactic heartthrob’ on my headstone,” Lance had said once.

_ Paladin of Voltron, Savior of the Universe  _ was written instead.

A sob strangled her throat, and Pidge covered her mouth with both hands to prevent it from leaking out.

She realized, in horror, that she didn’t know what to say or why she was sitting there, in front of him.

It took a moment, for her breathing to return back to normal, for the tears to hold back long enough for Pidge to inhale fresh summer air.

“Hi Lance.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “Sorry I haven’t visited.”

There were dying flowers leaning against the headstone, and despite herself she reached forward to touch the crinkles in the pale yellow petals.

She didn’t know what to say.

Or perhaps, she did, though she didn’t know how her friend would react. Her almost-anything. Her everything.

But, hey, she wasn’t getting anywhere just sitting in silence. Lance wasn’t a fan of that, either. He liked to talk.

“I had a dream about you last night.”

The sobs came back and flowed easy with her story.

“You drank tea with two spoonfuls of honey.”

She recounted every detail. Every moment of the dream she could remember. But that was another thing about dreams, a detail she hated so much. The fact that she could forget them.

“A-and I was going to tell you something. But I woke up.”

She didn’t forget that part, because she thought about it a lot. Words left unsaid. Words that fell on empty ears in an empty field full of stones and angels with their hands lifted towards the sky. A sky that Lance would’ve loved to see again. A sky that brought him rain and fluffy white clouds and a sky that took him home.

“I never got to tell you I love you.”


End file.
